


You Bring the Ocean, I'll Bring the Motion

by aoigensou



Category: Free!
Genre: Frottage, M/M, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-17
Updated: 2013-07-17
Packaged: 2017-12-20 11:39:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/886836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aoigensou/pseuds/aoigensou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He had known that Haru was merely taciturn and not completely clueless about the world around him as many of their classmates assumed, but somehow Makoto had forgotten that when it came to his crush.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Bring the Ocean, I'll Bring the Motion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [very](https://archiveofourown.org/users/very/gifts), [KRIM (Krim)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krim/gifts), [Ver (verloren1983)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/verloren1983/gifts).



> Many thanks to very for the beta, and to very, Ver, and KRIM for being such great cheerleaders!

"Haru, school is closing soon. You have to get out of the pool," Makoto called out across the pool towards his best friend. Ever since beginning the club, Haruka could be found swimming whenever he had a free moment until the very last second when an angry teacher would come to kick them off the grounds for the night. For some reason, he could never remember the teacher's name, though it was the same one that always seemed to be the one assigned to yell at the members of the swimming club whenever they got into any sort of trouble. Privately, Makoto referred to him as Angry-sensei.

"Don't you two have homework to complete?" he would ask in his angriest voice, reminding Makoto of the days before the club had been formed, when he, Haru and Nagisa had been caught not once but twice trespassing where they shouldn't have. They would always come up with some sort of excuse -- running drills, endurance training, relay practice for the upcoming tournament -- that would get them off the hook, but _just this time, now get your clothes on and get home, you hooligans._ Makoto was just glad that Nagisa was good at talking his way out of things. This time, though, they wouldn't have the luxury of Nagisa's silver tongue, since he and the others had already packed up to go home for the night.

Makoto watched Haru do a lazy back float before turning over and swimming toward the edge, his powerful arms slicing through the water in his signature freestyle. It was a sight he didn't think he'd get tired of, no matter how often he saw it. Haru's back muscles shifted with each movement, his legs kicking swiftly and his head turning so he could breath every fourth stroke. The water sluicing over Haru's body glinted with the sinking afternoon sun, and Makoto lifted his hand to shield against the glare.

Makoto bit his lip, lowering his eyes from Haru's body gliding through the water to the lane next to him -- the lane he used during practice -- empty of anything but the blue wake coming from Haru's lane. He knew if he looked too long at Haru as he swam, he would have a bigger problem than Angry-sensei yelling at him. Taking the opportunity as Haru approached the wall, Makoto adjusted himself in his damp suit, trying very hard not to think dirty thoughts about his best friend. It was a struggle he faced every day, and a battle it was getting more and more difficult to win. The more time he spent with Haru, the more he wanted to see what being with him would be like.

Haruka hit the wall, pulling Makoto out of his thoughts abruptly as he as he watched Haru straighten up and pull his goggles up to his forehead. He took off the cap that covered his hair, shaking it out of his eyes in a way that made Makoto wonder if secretly Haru's hair was something straight out of one of the anime his brother and sister watched.

"Haru-chan, you should get out and shower. At least to rinse your jammer off, so the chlorine doesn't wear it out too soon." Makoto crouched down to offer Haru a hand up. Haru stared up at him for a second, his eyes squinting slightly as if the glare of the sun was in his eyes before grasping the offered hand, his fingers curling securely around Makoto's wrist. Makoto stood up, grunting softly with the effort of pulling Haru out of the pool, the water pouring off of him and wetting the concrete surrounding the pool, as well as his own feet. Haru caught the edge of the pool with one knee, his other leg lifting to help himself stand.

"Thanks," Haru said, dropping Makoto's hand after several seconds and shaking the water from his hands and feet. Makoto watched him stride over to his towel, shaking his head.

"No problem. We have to leave in about 30 minutes, though, so we should hurry." He pointed toward the club room, where they thankfully had a set of showers rather than having to trek to the main school building to use the ones near the gym. Those would be full of sweaty basketball players and track runners, so even with just the four members plus Kou-chan, he was grateful they had their own area to clean up.

The wind blew suddenly, rustling the trees that surrounded the fence, and sending a shiver shuddering through Makoto's frame. He had been out of the pool for a while, and had a chance to dry some, but his damp suit seemed to chill with the wind. Makoto glanced over at Haru, whose whole body was still damp with water, and wondered how he could stand the wind. Even that first time they had filled the pool and the water had been icy, he still took the chance to dive in, purple lips and all.

"You must be part fish," Makoto said to Haru with a teasing smile, "with how you can swim no matter how cold the water is." Haru glanced over at Makoto without turning his head, the light catching the darker blue of his irises and making them shine. He didn't say anything, but Makoto thought he saw the ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Makoto smiled wider, his eyes closing and his head tilting to the side as they walked side by side. When they reached the door to the club room, Haru pulled it open and Makoto held it open so his friend could go through first. His eyes strayed from the wide strength of his back down to the curve of his ass, and as the door swung shut behind him, he felt the need to adjust himself once more. Haru had the loveliest shoulderblades. Sometimes, Makoto would spend sleepless nights in the darkest silence thinking of Haru's shoulderblades and wondering what they would feel like beneath his fingertips, how they would taste on his tongue. Would the skin be hot, warmed by the well-developed muscles? Or would they be cool, taking on the temperature of the pool he spent so much time in?

Makoto cleared his throat as softly as he could manage, his mouth having gone dry as the thoughts compounded. He had better self-control than this usually, he didn't know what was wrong with himself today. "Nagisa walked Kou-chan home already, and Rei left after them," he said to fill the silence between the two of them. It was an unnecessary explanation, he knew Haru probably wasn't even wondering where the other club members were.

"Ahh," Haru said, his eyes flicking over to Makoto once more. He felt the tips of his ears redden. He didn't know why he was so embarrassed by Haru looking at him, especially when it was such an innocent look. There was something about his friend's eyes, and the way he stared that made Makoto squirm, though. It had really become a problem, recently, where he had been able to hide it before.

Scratching the back of his damp head, Makoto offered Haru a wry smile and pointed toward the showers. "I'm going to go on ahead. Don't take too long, Haru-chan," he said, his voice squeaking on the -chan. Feeling his face flame even redder, Makoto covered it with the hand he had used to point, turning so he didn't have to see Haru react. His voice had broken years ago, why did it have to do something so embarrassing just then?

Twisting the faucet in the furthest shower on, Makoto didn't wait for the water to change from cool to hot, tipping his head forward to let the spray rain down on him, his hands flat against the tiles in front of him. He stared down at his feet, at the water swirling down the drain, and wondered if the feeling of liking his best friend would ever go away. He knew that it was a foolish crush; Haru didn't seem to like anyone much, and he had always thought himself the exception. He was on friendly terms with the rest of the team as well, but he had thought it was different for the two of them, special. If it hadn't been for that time at Haru's house, when Kou-chan had told them that Rin had been coming home for the winter holidays each year, when doubt had started to creep into his mind. Haru hadn't seemed surprised. To anyone else, it had seemed like he hadn't reacted at all, but Makoto knew better. He knew how to read Haru better than anyone else.

And it always came back to Rin.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Makoto tried to ignore his embarrassment and quash the rising tide of jealousy that always seemed to well up in him when he thought of Rin. He was their friend, even if his attitude had completely changed since the last time they had spent any time together. It was stupid to be jealous of him; after all it was Haru's choice who he associated with, and in what way. Jealousy only made things awkward and painful. It was one thing to know that in his head, though; Makoto's heart had other ideas.

"Dammit," he murmured, his ears still burning with the conflicting emotions. Taking several breaths, Makoto tried to regain his normal composure. His fingers slipped against the tiles as he curled them, his knuckles whitening with tension. It had been a long time since he had been so flustered, and he didn't want Haru to see him like that.

A hand brushing abruptly across the small of his back startled Makoto, and he straightened up at the same time as he spun around to see who it was. He caught a flash of Haru's blue eyes and black hair as his feet slipped on the tiles. His arms flailed wildly as he struggled to keep himself upright, but it was a pair of strong arms that kept him from falling on his ass. Instinctively, Makoto put his hands on Haru's shoulders, his heart beating a frenzied tattoo in his chest from the sudden rush of adrenaline.

"Thanks," Makoto said in a rueful voice, waiting for Haru to drop his hands. When it didn't happen immediately, his expression turned puzzled. "Haru?" Again, Haru didn't answer, he just stared intently at Makoto's face. After a few seconds of silence, Makoto began to fidget, feeling naked even with his body covered from waist to calf by his jammer. A few more seconds, and he felt compelled to fill the silence. "What are you doing?"

Haru surprised Makoto once more by letting his hands run along Makoto's sides, from his ribs down to the waistband of his swimsuit and up again. The light touch raised goosebumps on Makoto's skin, and sent a shiver through him. The water, still spraying the two of them, only heightened the sensation.

"Haru?" Makoto asked once more.

"I've seen you watching me, sometimes," Haru said finally, still staring at Makoto with his face a mixture of his normal deadpan and something that isn't quite amusement. "When you don't think I'm looking." The expression, as well as the words caused Makoto to blink. He had known that Haru was merely taciturn and not completely clueless about the world around him as many of their classmates assumed, but somehow Makoto had forgotten that when it came to his crush. And the fact that he had been so transparent with the object of his unorthodox affections made him want to curl up and hide in the closest deep dark hole. No, Haru wasn't as blind as he had hoped he was.

"Haru, I can explain," Makoto said, dread filling him as he fought to keep his tone light. Perhaps, he thought, he could pass it all off as a joke, and wouldn't have to bear the pain of rejection. Haru didn't give him a chance, however.

The two of them locked eyes, Makoto's blush returning full-force as Haru guided him back to press against the wall. The shower was forgotten completely when his best friend, with no hesitation that Makoto could see at all, leaned against him, tilting his head to the right just enough to kiss him without their noses bumping.

Even though he saw it coming, the press of Haru's lips against his own still startled Makoto, his eyes widening at how unexpectedly soft they were. Haru's hands pressed firmly against Makoto's sides, and his thumbs slipped in the waistband of his swimsuit, causing Makoto to gasp into the kiss. Haru seemed to take that as an invitation, and he opened his own mouth, their lips moving to fit together so that Makoto had Haru's lower lip between his own lips, Makoto's lower lip almost resting on Haru's chin in a way that didn't seem like how people kissed in those dramas his mother liked to watch. He didn't have any experience of his own on which to draw. Being friends with Haru had the side effect of people thinking he was just as eccentric, and Makoto didn't really mind it. It meant that nobody else tried to get close to them, but it also meant that nobody had confessed to him. Even if they had, though, Makoto wasn't sure he would have accepted. For as long as he could remember, he only had eyes for Haru.

His eyes slipping shut, Makoto sucked lightly on Haru's lower lip, drawing a soft gasp from him. The kiss parted with a light sound, Makoto savoring each small detail he could remember while it was still fresh in his mind.

"What about Rin?" he asked on impulse, before he could think about what he was saying. His eyes opened and he looked at Haru's face in profile as his friend looked anywhere but at him.

"Rin is a friend," Haru answered simply. Makoto sighed, the air gusting from his lungs ruffling Haru's hair. He hadn't stepped away from Makoto, which he found to be endearing even as he was struggling to swallow the jealousy lumped in his throat.

"A friend."

"Just a friend," Haru clarified, turning to look at Makoto in a way that reminded him of himself, on those times when he knew exactly what Haru was thinking. The knot of jealousy eased, and Makoto was able to breathe a lot easier.

On impulse, Makoto brought his hand up to push a strand of sodden hair away from Haru's eyes. "Why me? Why me and not Rin?" he asked as he fingered the silky hair. "You two have always been really... intense. Even when we were kids, and especially now. I thought that you two...." Makoto trailed off, staring at the hair resting on his fingertips, eyes darting to Haru's face to gauge his reaction.

Haru flashed him an annoyed look, as if Makoto should have even asked, and Makoto smiled weakly. He knew he usually gave off an easygoing air; he worked quite hard to keep it that way. But it was hard not to be jealous or insecure when the object of your affections only seemed to get worked up over someone else.

"Rin is a talented guy. And okay to look at, I guess, if you're into shark teeth," Haru said, turning away from Makoto again and looking over at the shower knob. "But there's only been one guy who's been with me no matter what." Color rose to Haru's cheeks as he spoke, and Makoto heard the unspoken _stupid_ in Haru's tone of voice. He laughed despite himself, and Haru tugged him under the spray of the shower, looping an arm around Makoto's neck to pull him into another kiss.

The water cascaded over the two of them as their bodies slid together, Makoto's arms slipping around Haru's waist to dig his blunt fingernails into the small of Haru's back. Haru's kisses tasted of chlorine, bright and summery, and so, so wet. The second kiss had a bit more finesse than the first, their lips sliding against each other properly as they panted lightly into each other's mouths. Their mouths parted, and came together, and parted again in many small kisses, until Haru boldly swiped his tongue across Makoto's lips. Makoto's fingers curled against Haru's back, and he was vaguely aware that he was probably leaving marks. He couldn't find it in him to care, though, as his own tongue met Haru's halfway, the tips slipping against each other slickly with their saliva. The feel of it sent a sharp throb of desire thrumming through him and he could feel his dick reacting; the spandex of his jammer wasn't nearly sufficient to cover or hide his erection. Makoto ended the kiss, moving to pull away from Haru before he noticed.

He wasn't fast enough, though; Haru locked his arms around Makoto's waist, holding him tightly against him.

"Haru, wait," Makoto said, panicking a bit. He put his hands on Haru's shoulders with the intention of pushing him away, but one look from Haru stopped him.

"I'm the same way," Haru said as he dropped his head onto Makoto's shoulder, muffling the embarrassment in his voice. "So you shouldn't run away just because of that." To prove it, Haru pushed his hips against Makoto's, and the feel of another erection against his own was the single most erotic thing Makoto had experienced in his life. He bit his lip to stifle a moan, pulling away just enough so there was enough space between the two of them so he could look down and see Haru's dick, tracing the outline of it through the black jammer with his eyes. His own was harder than he had ever felt it, and he felt as though it were his second year of middle school all over again and he was popping boners at the mere thought of bodily contact with another human being. Only it was better now, because it wasn't just any human being touching him, it was _Haru_.

Haru moved close again, pressing his cock against Makoto's, the spandex of their swimsuits slipping against each other in a heady sensation that made the both of them moan, their voices echoing off the walls of the shower. Makoto stepped out of the spray of the shower, his back hitting the tiles once more, Haru following him so as not to lose the contact they both craved. He thrust his hips forward, rubbing their erections together, their chests colliding as they both panted. Makoto gasped, his hands slipping from Haru's shoulders, his fingers clutching desperately at Haru's upper arms as his blue eyes bored into him while their bodies slid together. His back was flush against the cool tiles of the shower wall, and the almost too-cold water cascaded over Haru's back, droplets splashing onto Makoto's face and into his mouth as he struggled to breathe. Everything was happening so quickly that he almost couldn't comprehend; it felt like one of his dreams come to life, but better. His dreams had never been so vivid, had never even hinted that Haru touching him like that would feel so good.

Makoto could feel Haru's dick against his, and how hard it was. Their suits were so thin that he thought he could almost feel the thick vein that ran along the underside of his cock. He wanted to see it, to touch it, but Haru slipped his thigh between Makoto's legs to press against his cock, and all thought flew from his head. He rubbed himself against Haru's thigh, feeling Haru shadowing the movement against his. The two of them set up a rhythm, grinding against each other's legs desperately. Makoto could feel Haru breathing heavily against his neck, his lips brushing the wet skin there and making him shiver. The way they were practically humping each other drew a low, needy moan from Makoto. His hands moved to grasp Haru's tight ass, squeezing the firm muscles and pulling Haru harder against him with each grinding motion.

Haru grunted into Makoto's neck, the vibrations of his voice stealing Makoto's breath away. He hooked his thumbs beneath the spandex waistband of Haru's jammer, tugging it halfway down Haru's ass so he could better feel the way the muscles tightened beneath his hands with each forward movement. His hands slid over the bare skin of his ass, cupping and grasping it so hard he knew he was parting his ass cheeks. He almost wished he could see it, see how Haru's ass looked wet and bare and exposed for him, but it would mean stopping the rubbing that was so, so good and Makoto couldn't stop, never wanted to stop.

As they moved, Makoto heard Haru whisper his name against his ear, his teeth brushing against his earlobe, and felt his knees go weak. The only thing keeping him upright was Haru's weight pressing him against the wall. He may have been taller and broader than Haru, but he was completely at the mercy of his friend at that moment. There was one thing he could do, though, and gathering his wits about him as best he could, he let go of one of Haru's ass cheeks to slip his hand between them, cupping Haru's cock with his palm. Haru's movements paused, and he released an explosive breath as Makoto explored the shape and girth of Haru's dick through his swimsuit with his fingertips. It was a familiar shape, but at the same time so different than his own. Haru's cock curved slightly to the right, and as he stroked it he wanted to see if that was just the way it was arranged in Haru's jammer, or if it would cant that way if he let it hang free and bare.

Haru's harsh pants continued as Makoto touched him, and he thrust himself further into his hand in search of more friction. Makoto gave it to him as best he could as he kept grinding himself against Haru's thigh, his motions faltering when Haru licked a line from Makoto's ear down to his jugular. He slips his hand down from Haru's cock to between his legs to cup his balls and squeeze gently.

"Haru," he says breathlessly, starting to ask for permission to touch him for real, to put his hand down the front of his jammer and wrap his fingers around Haru's cock and stroke him the way he strokes himself at night, "can I--"

"--Makoto, I'm close," Haru interrupts in a tight voice. Makoto swallowed thickly, wanting so badly to see what it looked like when Haru shot his load, to catch it with his own hand and spread it over Haru's dick as he kept stroking him. But he would have to settle for trying that another time, if Haru would let him. He pressed the heel of his hand against Haru's cock, stroking him fast and firm until Haru's breaths became more erratic. He felt Haru's fingers dig into his skin, until finally with a sobbing cry Haru came, his eyes squeezed shut and his mouth hanging open. He could feel a warmth spreading in Haru's swimsuit, and the combination of sensations and sounds triggered Makoto's own orgasm, Haru's name on his lips as he threw his head back to moan, not caring when he hit it against the tiles.

When he came back to himself, Haru was still leaning against him, breathing normally even while Makoto was trying to catch his breath. He didn't know where to look, or what to say now that they had crossed a line they couldn't uncross, so he settled for looking up at the ceiling, his head throbbing dully. Makoto could feel the semen in his jammer cooling, and licked his lips, wondering how to break the not-awkward-yet-not-not-awkard silence to suggest that they finish cleaning themselves up. He never got the chance, though.

"What do the two of you think you're doing?!" a voice from just outside the shower area startled them both out of their daze. They jumped apart, scrambling to look as though they hadn't just been having sex in the showers at school. Footsteps approached, and Makoto looked over his shoulder, not wanting to show his front to the intruder. "School closed twenty minutes ago! Get your asses dressed and get home!"

"Oh, is it that late?" Makoto asked, surprised. His voice was slightly hoarse, and he ran his hand through his hair sheepishly. Time felt like it had slowed down for him, so he was genuinely unaware that it had slipped so far away from them. Haru seemed unperturbed, though Makoto could see the lingering blush on his face from their activities of just a few minutes before.

"You ask that every time," Angry-sensei said, exasperated. "Don't you two have homework to do or something? I want you out of here in two minutes. No excuses!" The familiar question that had become routine for this regular confrontation echoed through the club room, and Makoto almost wanted to laugh at how normal it seemed after what he and Haru had just done.

Ten minutes later, Makoto and Haru were side by side on the sidewalk, the school behind them. They hadn't even had time to remove their jammers before throwing their uniforms on and grabbing their backpacks, Angry-sensei breathing down their necks the entire time. Makoto thought that he was probably counting each second they took getting ready, waiting for another excuse to yell at them. They hadn't said anything as they exited the school, the only sound between them the wind blowing through the trees and the rhythmic pounding of their syncopated steps.

"Hey, Haru?" Makoto asked after the silence had stretched on several long minutes, fidgeting with his uniform sleeve.

"Yeah?" Haru said, keeping his eyes on the road ahead of them. Both of their uniform pants were damp from the wet swimsuits underneath, and Makoto at least had a wad of come inside his jammer making things sticky and uncomfortable. Haru, for his part, didn't seem too bothered by either situation, but Makoto couldn't wait to get home and change his clothes.

Makoto hesitated, trying to figure out the right words for his question. "This isn't going to make things weird for us, is it?" he finally said in a soft voice. Haru's steps paused for a fraction of a second, before they continued forward at the same steady pace.

"Why should it?" he asked. Makoto's face broke out in a slow smile, and as the two of them continued toward where they would split up to go to their own houses Makoto let himself purposely bump the back of his hand against Haru's. As they approached the intersection, Haru reached over to curl his pinkie around Makoto's, keeping their hands subtly together.

Makoto thought he might never stop smiling.


End file.
